When Zál had thus expounded all the riddles
The company both wondered and rejoiced,
While Minúchihr, glad-hearted, cried: “Well done!”
He had forthwith a banquet-hall prepared,
As 'twere the moon at full, and there they quaffed
Wine till the night fell, and the revellers' heads
Became bemused. Then at the portal rose
Shouts for the steeds, and glorious in their cups
The warriors grasped hands and went their ways.
Now when the sunshine struck the mountain-tops

And when the chiefs awoke, Zál, ready-girt
And lion-like, approached the royal presence
For leave to hie him home, and thus he said:—
“My gracious lord! I long to see Sám's face.
Since I have kissed the footings of thy throne
Of ivory thy Grace and crown illume
My heart.”

The Sháh said: “Youthful warrior!

Thou must bestow upon us still one day.
Thou yearnest for the daughter of Mihráb
And not for Sám.”

He bade to carry gongs

With Indian bells and clarions to the ground,
And all the warriors went forth rejoicing
With lances, maces, and artillery.
They took their bows and poplar shafts and let
A mark stand for the foe. They wheeled and showed
Their horsemanship with mace, sword, shaft, and lance,
While from a height the Sháh, seen or unseen
By them, observed their skill, but never saw
Or heard of horsemanship like Zál's. There stood
Upon the ground an ancient tree. Zál took
His bow, urged on his steed, and raised his name
By striking that tall tree and piercing it
Full in the centre with the royal shaft.
Then certain of the javelin-men took bucklers
And exercised with double-headed darts.
Zál bade his Turkman slave bring shields of hide,
Drew himself up and urged his steed along,
Then dropped his bow, took his own javelin
And made new sport. He struck and pierced three shields
And flung them to one side in high disdain.

The Sháh said to the chiefs: “What mighty man
Will challenge him to prove his weight in combat?
He hath knocked dust out of two-headed darts
And arrows.”

Then the warriors donned their mail

With wrathful hearts and curses on their tongues.
They pricked forth to the combat bearing spears
With heads of tempered steel. Zál urged his steed,
Made the dust fly, and, when the battle joined,
Selected from the rest a cavalier
Of fame and high estate at whom he charged.
The warrior turned and fled. Zál, leopard-like,
Emerging from the dust, seized on his belt
And took him from his saddle with such ease
That both the Sháh and army were astound,
The chiefs exclaiming: “None will see his peer.”
The Sháh said: “May he ever be thus ardent.
The mother of the man that dareth him
To battle will wear mourning for her son.
The lionesses bear not one so brave,
So brave … he must be classed with crocodiles!
And Sám is blessed indeed to leave the world
Such a memorial.”

He praised the youth,

As did the famous warriors. Then they went,
With girded loins and casques upon their heads,
Toward the palace where the Sháh prepared
A robe of honour that astonished all
The chieftains, with a precious crown and throne
Of gold, with armlets, torques, and golden girdles,
Rich robes, slaves, steeds, and other things of worth,
And gave the whole to Zál, who kissed the earth.